I nodded.
Ashish joined her and Chhaya was beside him.
‘I didn’t know you were going to be here.’
‘I love your dress!’ Chhaya cooed. Had she missed the baby moons?
‘I wasn’t, but Neha warned me…’ Ashish said.
We were talking over each other.
I was laughing, and Chhaya was laughing louder as her heel dug into Ashish’s shoe. She must’ve broken his toe because he almost lifted her and put her aside.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
Ashish laughed. ‘The price you pay for chatting up a woman in spikes.’
‘I need to get a drink.’
‘Me, too,’ I told Chhaya as I caught Neha walking my father towards the bar.
I wanted to tell Neha he had stopped drinking when Andrew steered me in the direction of the Kumars.
I was aware that I was leaving Chhaya to her own fate, but you shouldn’t be walking all over people in those weapons of mass destruction.
Sudha was looking regal in a maroon Kanjeevaram. I was so happy I hadn’t turned up in denims that I squeezed Andrew’s arm.
He was looking at me in that way no one else has ever looked at me. My heart was in motion like a jungle drum.
Pooja was stunning in an emerald-green bodycon that finished just below her butt. She was taking photographs.
‘I love what you’re wearing,’ she called out from across the room.
That’s when I noticed that the entire room was decorated in Mangalore mallige. The rear wall was covered in a curtain of it; strings of the fragrant bud criss-crossed the ceiling.
My mother’s favourite.
On a corner stool was a tall blue china vase with red roses.He has a vase,I told myself.
‘Why’ve you done all this?’ I asked Andrew, touching the jasmines and smelling my hand.
I love this fragrance. Like Mother.
I walked a few steps and then turned back. Andrew was there. His hand cupped my elbow. My father was to his right, hopping from one foot to another, looking at Andrew and nodding.
Just then, Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’ filled the room.
I turned to Andrew, who was down on a knee.
Had he slipped?
‘I told you to wear the polka-dotted shirt,’ Pooja squealed from across the room. ‘You guys would’ve been twinning. Duh!’
I looked at Andrew again. ‘You have a polka-dotted shirt?’ I asked.
Mr and Mrs Kumar had joined my father. They were all clapping.
It wasn’t ‘Huss’ standing next to Chhaya, it was Ashish! Why was Chhaya blushing? She should’ve been laughing.
